“Agreed.”
I ran to the bars and hacked at them with Ebon. When enough bars had been cut, I kicked the grid free. Most of the prisoners ran, but the old man was rooted to the ground as he marveled at the chaos surrounding him.
“Yaltu!” I said, turning to her. “He won’t move. I don’t want to leave him. Can you do anything?”
She looked from me to the old man, studied him for a second, then placed her hand over his face. After a few seconds of concentration, she removed her hand. The old man looked like he’d just woken from a bad dream and cowered from my team.
“Go with him,” I ordered. “Get him moving, then go to the coal pile where I told Skrew to meet us. If the fire gets too bad, head into the woods. We’ll find you.”
She nodded and grabbed the old man by his hand. “Come with me!”
She tugged at his arm until he had no choice but to get moving, and they disappeared into the darkness.
Thankfully, the guards were all too busy fighting the fires to hinder the slaves from fleeing.
I turned to head back to the powerplant when I noticed the corpse of the guard Reaver had shot out of the tower lying by my feet. There was something small and shiny attached to his head. I bent down and pulled it off. It felt like it had been attached magnetically. It vibrated in my hand, stopped, then vibrated again. When I touched the item to my own head, I thought I could hear something. I moved it to the bone behind my ear and was sure: it was a communications device that transmitted sound by vibrating the bones in the head. I didn’t understand what I was hearing, though, so I removed it and stuck it in my pocket. It might come in handy later.
Finding the communicators gave me an unexpected problem I hadn’t thought of. There were three of us who needed to be able to shoot, move, and communicate. Five, if I counted Yaltu and Skrew. As far as I knew, only two of us, Reaver and I, were trained on how to use communications effectively in battle.
I could smell and hear the fire in the woods. Judging by what I could see in the starlight, it looked as if the volume of smoke was diminishing, as was the density. The guards were succeeding.
What I didn’t know, however, was how they were managing it. The intense flames from the burning bushes and trees would be impossible even for the tough-skinned aliens to get close to. I didn’t think they could tolerate more than a minute or two of 600-degree temperatures or higher.
I scanned the dozen buildings for the Switchboard. My eyes settled on a two-story welded building with a railing that bordered a narrow walkway. Its rusted junctions were repainted cubes and angle iron pieces, cobbled together pragmatically.
The first story appeared to be nothing more than power inverters, transformers, control boxes, and other devices I wasn’t familiar with. The second story was plain scrap metal. I was about to look to another building when I noticed a woman staring through a barred window. She looked like the other Ish-Nul. She had to be the priestess.
“I’m going to grab the priestess,” I said.
“You know where she is?” Reaver asked.
“Yeah.” I turned to Beatrix. “Come with me. Reaver, take cover among the equipment here and secure the perimeter. Don’t let anyone sneak up on us.” I was worried that someone might approach from behind as soon as the fires were under control. The heat from the main generator fire was growing intense enough to cause spots on the big building to glow with the heat. It wouldn’t be long before—
My thoughts were interrupted by a hissing explosion that sent a shockwave through my bones and rattled my teeth. One of the generator’s boilers must have exploded. The powerplant was still standing, but the walls and roof bulged outward, like a square balloon a child had started to inflate before becoming distracted.
Reaver grabbed a three-foot-long rifle from a guard’s corpse. I figured it was some kind of sniper rifle. She took cover while the last of the slaves fled the powerplant.
Beatrix and I ascended the metal stairs to the Switchboard building. I wondered how I’d greet the priestess. By the way the Ish-Nul had spoken of her, I expected she’d be elderly, frail, and very wise. So long as we didn’t run into any more trouble on our way out of the compound, either Beatrix or I could carry her back to her people. The guards would likely have enough to worry about just fighting the fires. We were almost done with the mission, and we’d delivered a devastating blow to the slavers. I felt a grim smile settle on my face.
Beatrix and I made it to the doorway without any further trouble. I caught a glimpse of a near-extinguished fire through one of the barred windows. In perhaps a couple of minutes the guards would have realized it was a distraction for something happening inside the powerplant.
When I arrived at a locked door at the top of the stairs, I signaled Beatrix to approach cautiously; you never knew.
“Well?” a sassy female voice suddenly said from behind the door, before I could even think of knocking. “What are you waiting for? As soon as the fires started, I got ready. I’ve been sitting here twiddling my toes, waiting for someone to finally make their way here and rescue me. Unlock the cell! Let’s go!”
Beatrix raised her eyebrows and smiled. “I like her.”
I laughed as I placed my foot on the metal by the lock and put all my weight behind it. The door buckled before crumpling. I grabbed the handle and tore the mangled door free of its hinges.
The woman I saw standing in the dim light of a
